Worth It?
by VickyVicarious
Summary: Shawn has the worst day of his entire life. Rain, a cat, a bank robbery, chains, *lots* of Shawn-whump... is it worth it?
1. Chapter 1

Written for the _Ya Had A Bad Day_ challenge at Psychfic . com.

Uh, also not my **best** work. But I think it's okay. Maybe. not very much Henry or Gus, and it's mostly just Shawn-whump. But... Just read it, you'll see.

-.-.-

Juliet's eyes widened as she stared at Shawn. "Wh-what did you just say?" Her voice was hushed, scandalized.

He grinned widely, not bothering to lower his voice. "Oh come on, Jules. You know it's the truth. Pineapple is truly the best fruit out there… but even _I_ can't deny the benefits of an apple. Especially if it's a man in an apple suit outside a police station… what's he doing there anyway? Plus, if you add 'pine' to the front, what do you have?"

There was a long pause, then Shawn looked around him. "Dude, where's Gus? That was his cue!"

Juliet couldn't help giggling. "To do _what?_"

His eyes sparkled playfully at her. "I can't tell you that, it breaks the rule!"

"What rule?"

Shawn shook his head, mock-disappointed. "Jules, Jules, Jules. I can't believe you would even _ask_ me such a thing. Even _Lassy_ knows the rule!"

The Head Detective, who had been walking by at that exact moment, paused, opened his mouth, but then seemed to rethink it, shaking his head and continuing on his way without a word.

At this, Shawn's mouth fell open. He shot Juliet a suspicious glance, grabbing her arm and tugging her into the Chief's office.

"Good morning, Mr. Spencer, Detective O'Hara."

Shawn's eyes widened, and he yanked Juliet right back out of the room. She followed him, rolling her eyes as he made his way to Buzz and stopped expectantly. The young police officer offered him a harried, "Hi Shawn," as he rushed past, but nothing more.

Shawn groaned, tilted his head back, and dramatically fell to his knees, yelling up at the ceiling. "It's _gone!_ It's all gone!"

Juliet stood above him, one eyebrow raised. Everyone else in the station ignored the psychic's melodramatic cry.

Shawn popped back to his feet, babbling to Juliet. "See that there? Right there? It's been happening all day. No one is doing what they're supposed to, Jules! Look, Gus is _always_ there to finish the punch line! And – and Lassy, he's always mad at me; he always goes like, 'What are you talking about, Spencer?' and then we banter. And Chief always tells me to knock when I burst in, and Buzz… well; Buzz always has a pineapple smoothie here for me. And no one in the station responded when I yelled. That's what they _do_. And… does that guy have a fan on his head? What's going on?"

Much to his surprise, Juliet didn't answer. Well, not in the traditional manner. Instead, she reached out and yanked him by his ears forward. Shawn, thinking she was trying to kiss him, went…

…And found himself in a headlock under his father's arm, while the police officers around them cheered. "How many hats, Shawn?" The man asked, "How many hats?"

Shawn panicked, staring around at the officers and random apple suit wearers. "Uh… I don't know! I don't know, okay?!"

His father dropped him and stepped back. "I'm disgusted with you, Shawn."

Shawn closed his eyes tightly. "I know, dad."

He opened them to see Lassiter's face right up in his. He was grinning, and he had an alarm clock in his mouth. Shawn blinked, but then it began to buzz loudly…

.

Shawn sat up, breathing heavily. "Aah!"

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he turned to look suspiciously at his alarm clock. His eyes widened at the time, as well as the fact that it wasn't going off.

"Okay… scary dream, waking up at 3AM… This is not going to be a fun day."

--

**3:15AM, Shawn's Apartment**

After fifteen minutes of unsuccessfully trying to go back to sleep, there was a knock on his door. Shawn sighed and made his way out to it, opening it. The 'little old cat lady', also known as Mrs. Fitzwilliams, was wringing her hands outside his door.

"Oh Shawn, Mr. Speckles escaped! H-he's out there, all alone, and he's just a little kitty… and the Williams next door just got a big mean dog… Please, please help me get him back!"

Shawn agreed, closing the door while he went back to his bedroom to pull on some boots. Grumbling about stupid old women with their idiotic cats, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way back outside.

Yawning, he walked out into the street, waving a flashlight around. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty… Here kitty… Come on, Mr. Speckles…"

Shawn jumped when he heard loud barking, and turned his flashlight to look at the garden of his next-door neighbors. With a sinking heart, he walked closer and peered over the fence, shining his flashlight down.

Sure enough, there was the cat… holed up in a tree in almost the exact center of the little garden, with a moderately sized dog barking up at it. Shawn sighed heavily, then scrambled up over the fence, cursing when his thin sleeping shirt got caught and ripped, letting his skin underneath get scratched.

Nearly falling as he landed in a bush, Shawn stumbled free before turning back to get the flashlight. Snatching it up, he made his way towards the tree. Stopping a few feet away, he set down the flashlight so that it lit up the entire tree, and began to inch forward, talking to the dog.

"Hello, buddy… I'm Shawn, you don't want to bite me, no you don't… Good boy…"

He yelped when the dog rushed toward him, but it only started jumping around his feet, panting excitedly. Relaxing, Shawn reached down to scratch its ears. "Good _boy_…"

Trying to navigate around the excited dog was difficult, but he managed, finally making his way to the base of the tree.

Peering up into the branches, Shawn sighed, yawned again, and began to climb.

.

Twenty minutes later, he fell from the tree, clutching a wildly hissing and scratching cat. He let out a muffled cry of pain when he hit the ground, but didn't let go of the angry cat, which was trying to reach his face to claw at his eyes.

However, as he got to his feet, limping, he was faced with a new problem; the previously friendly dog no longer liked him much with a cat in his hands, and was rushing around his legs, jumping up at him.

Shawn made his painful way back to the fence, and flung himself and the cat over, swearing again as he landed on his twisted ankle. He collapsed to the ground, leaning on the fence and breathing hard, for a few seconds, only to jump and yell in pain when the cat's sharp claws caught him across the chest.

.

"Oh, thank you so much, Shawn!" The little old lady cuddled her monster of a cat, babbling at it, as she turned around and slammed the door behind her, leaving him gaping out in the hallway. An hour of effort and pain, and that was _all_ he got?

Shawn limped back to his own door and put his hand on the knob to open it, when he realized something: it was locked, and he didn't have the keys.

.

After five minutes quiet swearing, three searching for the keys or a phone on his person, twelve spent trying to pick the lock with various little objects from his shoes or the ground, and seven minutes slowly banging his head against the wall, Shawn came up with a solution.

The fire escape.

He left the building and looked up at the metal construction. Taking a deep breath, he bent close to the ground, wincing when his ankle twinged, then jumped up, just barely managing to catch hold of the bottom rung with one hand.

Silently cursing the fact that all his building had was a ladder going up the side, he flexed his arm, pulling up into a chin-up, and threw his other arm up to the second rung.

He could practically feel his muscles ripping by the time he reached the third rung, and his hands were slippery with sweat by the fifth, causing him to almost fall. Luckily, by the sixth he was able to use his feet – or, foot, since his left ankle was throbbing and putting weight on it didn't even bear thinking about now.

Shawn glanced up from the tenth rung, nearly weeping at the sight of the ledge next to his window, and thanked God that he only lived on the second floor.

Flopping onto the ledge, he lay panting on it for several minutes, finally rolling over onto his side and reaching over to open his window.

It was locked.

"Oh no, I do **not** have time for this!" Shawn grunted, and he drew back a fist – nearly crying out when his tired muscles protested the movement – and punched in the glass, reaching around to unlock it from the inside.

Though he was careful about removing his hand from the window, some broken glass still cut his hand, and it began to bleed furiously. Shawn just laughed and pushed the window open, crawling into his apartment.

Once inside, he stripped off his now-ruined shirt and wrapped his hand in it, before sitting back against the wall with his eyes closed.

.

In the shower, he assessed his injuries.

His ankle was twisted; luckily, he had an ankle brace in his bedroom, so as long as he didn't run or put too much weight on it, that wouldn't be a big problem. His chest and arms were covered in scratches and scrapes from the cat, fence, and tree, and there were some on his legs from when the dog had jumped up on him, but none of them were bleeding badly. All they needed was some antiseptic and they'd be fine.

His worse problems were both from the climb to his apartment; the cut on his hand was bleeding pretty badly, and he would have to wrap it up in gauze at the very least. And the muscles in his upper arms were aching, probably pulled; he couldn't even put his arms above shoulder level. Still, years of injuries told him he wouldn't need to go to the doctor; given time, they'd heal fine on their own, and there was nothing else he could do.

When he got out and finished tending to all his injuries, he looked at the clock and was shocked to realize it was only 5:30.

.

He passed the time watching TV, twiddling his thumbs, and playing computer games, but found that he wasn't really in the mood for any of his usual time-wasters. By 7:00, he'd had enough and he limped to his feet, snatching his keys and suede jacket, along with his wallet, thinking he'd go get some food and head down to the police station to see if anyone had a case for him.

He remembered Gus was out of town even as he finished dialing his friend's number, and cursed again, resigning himself to having to drive his motorcycle with his hurt hand and foot.

Oh well, at least it wasn't raining.

--

**7:45AM, Outside Police Station**

A dripping wet Shawn Spencer squelched his tired way into a coffee shop, cursing karma. What other explanation was there for this horror of a day?

He was even more annoyed at finding out that the shop was out of their usual pineapple coffee cake, and ended up buying only a large, black coffee, hoping it would wake him up and restore his usual optimistic, cheerful attitude.

Luckily the coffee shop was just across the street from the police station, so he made the dash to the dry station, shivering from the rain.

He made his way to the Chief's office, clutching his coffee close to his mouth, and only nodding at various people rather than greeting them by name, as he usually did. Pushing open the door with his hip, he slid almost-silently into the room, shuffling forward to a seat.

Pasting a grin on his face, he glanced around at Lassiter, Karen, and Juliet. "Hey, how's – " he only got out two words before the Chief threw a desperate glance at Lassiter, who instantly stood and plucked the coffee from Shawn's hands, tossing it in the trash.

"I won't have a caffeinated Spencer on my hands if I can help it!" he growled.

Shawn blinked in shock, then looked towards the two women. Karen shot him a look that said she clearly agreed with Lassiter, and while Juliet looked a little sympathetic, the main emotion on her face was amusement.

Shawn opened his mouth to say something, paused, then shut it with a sigh. Slumping forward into his seat, he allowed his head to fall forward onto the desk. At this, everyone else in the room rolled their eyes, but waited for the punch-line; the "I'm dead" or "_thanks_, Lassy", or flailing around – but after three minutes of silence, they all began to frown.

Juliet leaned in close. "Shawn? Are you okay?" He ignored her.

Lassiter walked forward, gripping Shawn's left shoulder and pulling him upward. "All right, that's enough – " he managed to say before Shawn let out a hoarse yell, pulling away from him. Confused, the man gripped tighter, but only provoked another yell of pain.

He let go, and Shawn stumbled out of his chair, away from Lassiter. He reached his hands up to rub at his shoulder – but stopped with a wince before they reached it.

At this, Lassiter rolled his eyes. "What, are you having a 'vision'?" he sneered.

Shawn ignored him, closing his eyes tightly for a few seconds before turning to the Chief, forcing a weak smile. "So, got any cases for me?" he asked, then sneezed.

Karen slowly shook her head. "…No, Mr. Spencer, I think you'd better go home. Are you sick?"

Shawn groaned. "No! I'm just bored, and I need a good case to distract me, that's all!"

Karen shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer. You should probably leave now."

Shawn looked like he was going to protest, but after a long, tense moment, he muttered "Fine!" with a pouty face, and left the room.

.

Though it was no longer raining, his motorcycle wouldn't start. Shawn swore loudly, kicked it, then whimpered with tears in his eyes as his ankle protested the action.

Allowing himself to sit down on the curb, he pulled out his cell phone to call for a ride. It rang twice, as usual, before his father picked up. "Hello?"

"Dad – "

"Shawn, I've been meaning to talk to you. I want you to come over here and sort through all of this crap you left in my attic! And while you're up there you might as well clean it out. Think of it as an advance for the next time you ask me for help."

Shawn muttered, "Fine, fine, fine, fine…" the entire time Henry was speaking, and eventually the man quieted. "Look, Dad… Can you pick me up? My bike isn't working and Gus is out of town. I'm at the station."

Henry laughed. "Of course. Of _course_ you're calling for a favor!"

"Dad!"

"Fine. But I'll have you know you're cutting out a valuable chunk of my day."

Shawn didn't bother with the retort on his tongue, just closing the phone and closing his eyes.

.

He woke up when Lassiter bumped into him and his phone fell from his fingers, and down through a grate at his feet.

"No! Damn it!"

Lassiter and Juliet both turned and noticed him for apparently the first time.

"Still waiting for a case? Sorry Spencer, you aren't about to get one… Even though we have several good ones already." Chuckled Lassiter smugly.

Shawn slowly pushed himself to his feet, and limped straight toward Lassiter and Juliet, a thunderous look on his face.

"That. Is. _It!_ That is _all_ I am putting up with! If either of you _observant_ detectives ever took the time to _look_ at people, you might have _noticed_ that I'm limping, I have a bandage around my hand, I'm dripping wet, and I'm here before ten o'clock, all of which should tell you that I… am not _having a good day!_"

He laughed weakly at their expressions of shock. "Oh, but no, neither of you bother to actually _notice_ anything! You're too busy taking potshots at me the _one day_ I look like I'm having less fun than you, Lassiter, which is almost a statistic impossibility – and _you_, you might be worse, Juliet, because at least you don't say you hate me! _You_ are supposed to be my _friend_, and friends tend to notice when friends are unhappy! Except for you; it seems like _you_ prefer to laugh at my misfortune! Gee, thanks for the info, O'Hara!"

Shawn took a deep breath, then expelled it in a wave of foul language that would make a sailor blush.

.

Several seconds later a pick-up pulled up, and Henry Spencer jumped out. He took one look at the shocked detectives and his son verbally attacking them, and his face fell. "Oh, no."

Shawn whirled on him. "Oh, hi Dad! Are you gonna yell at me now – 'Shawn, you can't tell anyone what you really think! Shawn, if you had been a cop this wouldn't have happened to you! Shawn –' "

Henry ignored him, speaking to the detectives as he came forward to Shawn, taking his son by the elbow and trying to pull him towards the car. "Sorry… I probably should have warned you when he started working here, but I honestly didn't think he'd be around long enough for this to happen."

Lassiter looked at him. "What exactly… _is_ this?"

Henry spoke over Shawn, who was now swearing repeatedly. "Normally, bad stuff just rolls off his back, but every now and then it piles up and he, well, sort of explodes. It's only happened about five or six times, but…" he turned to Shawn. "Shawn, shut UP!" Shawn shut his mouth in surprise, staring at his father. "Go wait in the car."

Shawn glared venomously at Henry, but yanked his arm free, doing as he said. Lassiter and Juliet watched in amazement. Henry turned back to them. "Sorry. Anyway, you can normally tell when it's going to happen because he gets very quiet and starts drinking a lot of coffee." Lassiter's eyes widened in guilt, but he didn't say anything.

Henry shrugged. "I'd better get him home, away from people. He can be…"

Over next to the car, Shawn threw a rock at a pole, hitting it with a loud _clang!_

Henry rushed off after him without another word, leaving the two detectives alone, feeling guilty.

.

Shawn had been silent the entire car ride, sulking. When they finally reached Henry's house, Henry turned to him. "All right, tell me what happened."

Shawn shook his head silently, getting out of the car and silently limping up to the house.

Henry watched him go and sighed.

--

**11:00AM, Henry's House**

"Do you want to come with me, Shawn? I'm going to the bank."

Shawn still hadn't spoken, but he nodded and got up from where he had been sitting on the couch. The passage of time had helped his mood a little bit, though not much; and he still refused to say a word to Henry.

Henry sighed again as he got into the car. He _hated_ when this happened.

.

Shawn shouldn't have been surprised. After all, on a day like this, it just _figured_ there would be a bank robbery, didn't it? But what he hadn't expected was the man with the gun recognizing him.

"Psychic! I want the psychic!" he yelled, and Shawn blinked. Henry shouted something back, but Shawn's eyes were already taking in the man's trigger finger pressing in just a little as it was held against the captive child's head, and he began to limp forward.

"You got me, man, calm down… Let the kid go, okay? I'm only coming if you let the kid go."

The thug shoved the child away from him, at the same time grabbing Shawn by the upper arm and pulling him close, pressing the gun against his ear. Shawn swallowed when he felt the cool metal, and tears came to his eyes when he was yanked around, but he bit his lips and didn't say a word.

His face was stony as he was led out of the bank, directly past several policemen, including Juliet and Lassiter, who stared at him, horrified. Shawn shrugged slightly at them as if to say, 'what can you expect?' He was surprised to see TV crews outside too, videotaping the whole thing. Apparently the robber had been holding them all captive longer than Shawn had realized, if there was time for the news to arrive. He shot them a small smile before crying out in pain as he was roughly shoved into the back of a van.

Instantly they were driving away, and being pursued, but Shawn was unaware of all of this; the moment he fell into the car and the doors slammed closed behind him, a second thug hit him hard on the back of the head and he fell unconscious.

--

**11:25AM, Basement**

Shawn woke slowly, in a great amount of pain, both from his head and from his arms, which were currently strung up above his head in handcuffs, which were in turn attached to chains dangling from some sort of pulley. Shawn felt tears come to his eyes when he tried to shift, his pulled muscles screaming protests to the motion.

He took one deep, slow breath, and raised his head, trying to suppress the pain as his eyes met those of a beautiful red-headed woman. He blinked in surprise. "Hi Sophie."


	2. Chapter 2

**Previously:**_  
_

_He took one deep, slow breath, and raised his head, trying to suppress the pain as his eyes met those of a beautiful red-headed woman. He blinked in surprise. "Hi Sophie."_

Sophie smiled back at her ex-boyfriend. "Hi Shawn. I never thought I'd see you again, especially not like this."

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, um… My arms really hurt, so if you could, uh, let me down…"

Sophie just rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. I just kidnapped you from a bank that I _robbed_, not to mention you're psychic and work for the police, so when you ask me things, do you _really_ think I'll agree? I thought you were smarter than that, Shawn."

Shawn would have shrugged, had his shoulders not been lit on fire. "Thought it was worth a try. So, uh… why kidnap me? You got the bank money already – or, your brothers did, anyway."

For a single instant, she looked surprised – then she smiled again. "So you really are psychic. How… lovely. Basically, Shawn, we want to use you, and your 'gift'." Sophie said it complete with finger-quotes, looking just like what she was: a happy young female college student making a joke. Of course, Shawn doubted most female college students had psychics strung up in their basements – or wherever they were.

Shawn frowned. "My powers are not willing to be used for evil. The spirits get quiet – and sulky, too."

She was no longer laughing. "Well, too bad. Your 'powers' are going to help us or we _are_ going to shoot you. My brothers will do whatever I say."

Shawn sighed. "But you won't _really_ kill me right? I mean, if you need me to do stuff for you…"

Sophie interrupted him. "Oh, we don't _need_ you Shawn, what gave you that idea? Nope, we just figured you would be useful – but we don't need you around. And besides," Sophie smiled, and it was much more sinister than it had ever been when Shawn had dated her, "who said we were planning to kill you? I just said 'shoot'."

Shawn stared at her for several long moments, his heart sinking. Almost without him realizing it, his gaze dropped to the floor and he muttered, "Oh shit."

--

**Same Time, Police Station**

"Damn it, you couldn't even follow them? What about plates? Are you all _really_ that incompetent around here, that you can't even trace one van?" Henry was on a rampage, and the entire station was scared.

"Look, Mr. Spencer – Henry – you know that Shawn can handle himself, please just – " Karen's feeble attempt at calming Henry down was cut short when Henry spun around and glared at her.

"No, _Karen_, what I know is that Shawn had hurt arms and a sprained ankle already today, not to mention that he was dragged away with a _gun to his head_ right in front of the _entire_ police force and _no one_ could help him or even find out where the _hell_ those bastards took him! Not to mention, he just so happened not to have his cell phone, so even _if_ he got the opportunity to escape on his own, he couldn't run because of his ankle, and he couldn't call us! So no, I will _not_ calm down, not until someone finds my damn _son!_"

Henry stood, breathing heavily, glaring around the Chief's office, fists clenched, for several moments longer, before he finally closed his eyes and took a deep breath, putting a hand up to his head.

"I – I'm sorry… I know you couldn't do anything, just…" Henry didn't finish his sentence, turning eagerly as the door opened. "Anything?"

Lassiter shook his head, avoiding Henry's eyes. "The plates were painted over, and the van was very nondescript – there are kinds like it all over the city. And the kidnappers themselves wore masks and didn't have any distinctive traits, other than being large and strong. But we're working on it."

Henry nodded once, then turned and strode out of the office, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

--

**12:25PM, Basement**

"Oh god…" Shawn's eyes flickered closed then open again, as he tried not to vomit.

He failed, and soon he was jerking in his chains, heaving, with tears streaming down his face from pain. Finally, after he stopped, he coughed heavily, lifting his head. "Please, Sophie – "

Sophie rolled her eyes and nodded to her brother. "Hit him one more time, Jake. But watch out for his legs this time, okay?"

Jake nodded, his large face flushing as he recalled how the first time he'd moved to hit Shawn, the psychic had kicked him right between the legs, rendering him useless for a good fifteen minutes.

Shawn had been hit only in the torso up till now; cracking several ribs he was sure. Because of this, the moment he heard Sophie speak, he prepared himself for pain in that same area, and as such, was completely unprepared from the leg that shot out and hit him right in between his own legs, in a mockery of his own earlier retaliation.

Shawn screamed at the pain, eyes rolling back in his head. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was Sophie, watching him with a little half-smile on her face.

Had he been able to check his watch, he would have known it was only 12:30. Less than two hours had passed since his kidnapping.

.

Sophie rolled her eyes again as she took in the sight of her brutally beaten ex-boyfriend dangling unconscious in front of her. She probably should have stopped her brothers a while ago – after all, she _was_ a doctor – or learning to be one, anyway – and she did know what kind of damage they were doing to Shawn. His arm muscles were probably not doing so well, having supported his entire body weight for over an hour. Not to mention the cracked ribs he had from the beating he'd received, and his concussion from being knocked out on the way here.

But somehow, she really couldn't bring herself to care. She'd had a grudge on Shawn for quite some time – basically since he'd dumped her, even though they had both known it was coming. At the time, she hadn't made a big deal out of her broken heart – her family had needed her, and she had no time to think about revenge – but now, she had all the time in the world.

Sophie needed the bank money for her brothers. Yes, the 19-year-old twins _looked_ perfectly healthy, but they were actually mentally ill. Jake had the brain of a ten-year-old; granted a ten-year-old that had absolutely no problem beating a man to unconsciousness, but that was simply because he did everything she asked of him. He rarely talked and when he did, it was only to Sophie herself.

And Eric… Even Sophie wasn't sure what was wrong with Eric. Most of the time he behaved almost exactly like Jake did – but occasionally, he would do something that made Sophie think he really _did_ understand what was going on, and might be okay… But it never lasted.

Sophie shook herself out of her thoughts and stepped forward to begin letting Shawn down from the chains. She'd do that much, at least. After all, she didn't want him to _die._ Not just yet, anyway.

Sophie smiled as she remembered the plan. Originally, she'd just wanted some money to help keep her and her brothers afloat until she got through med school; her parents had died several years ago and Jake and Eric were in no shape to take care of anyone, not even themselves. But now that Jake had successfully kidnapped Shawn, the psychic who'd hurt his sister's feelings, Sophie was getting much grander ideas.

She had never told Shawn she had brothers let alone what was wrong with them, not wanting to scare him away. So when he said it was her brothers that had helped rob the bank, she knew he really was psychic.

And if she had a psychic on her side…

She wouldn't have to worry about anything, ever again. Shawn could psychically help her out – telling her how to avoid the police, helping her to rob more banks and not get caught, even tell her the Lottery numbers if necessary! She might as well quit med school right now!

But what she'd said earlier still stood. If Shawn became a problem for her and her brothers, Sophie had no problem killing him. It might be harder without his help, but she didn't _need_ him for anything.

Finishing lowering Shawn to the ground, Sophie walked over and, with a smile, leaned down to peck him on the mouth before finally turning to go. "See you later Shawn. I think I'm gonna go get some lunch."

She walked up the basement stairs, leaving him lying down in the dark, with a smile on her face, and whistling a cheery tune.

"Jake, Eric! Either of you guys want to go get some McDonalds?"

--

**5:30PM, Basement**

Shawn woke the second time alone in the dark, in even more pain than before. For a single, blissful moment, all he felt was a pounding headache… but then everything else hit him, all at once. He moaned in pain, his eyes slipping shut once more, as he felt pain attack him from every direction.

His arms ached, not only because they'd been holding him up for god knew how long, but also because he was being held up by _handcuffs_ which had, at some point, cut into his wrists, so that blood trickled all the way down his arms. His entire torso was most likely one big bruise set over cracked – if not broken – ribs, which wasn't helped by his lying on cold, wet stone.

Lying on cold, wet stone?

Shawn reluctantly felt the ground with his hand. Yes, he was finally on the ground, no weight on his arms. Thank _god_.

After nearly twenty minutes, Shawn forced himself to stop crying and block out the pain. He let his eyes adjust to the very dim light, sitting up – which in itself took five minutes because of the pain in his chest and his rushing head – and looking around.

He'd been right earlier; he _was_ in a basement. And though Shawn had never been to Sophie's house, he was willing to bet it was hers.

_Great, I know where I'm locked up with no cell phone and no way out. __**That's**__ a big help._

Shawn sighed, trying to push the negative thoughts out of his head as he looked around. There were some shelves with tools against a back wall, and a washer and dryer closer to him, but other than that, the basement was pretty much empty. Shawn's heart leapt for a moment when he saw the short set of stairs leading to one of those slanted doors out of basements, but soon his sharp eyes caught sight of the padlock closing it and he swore.

Still… if he could get out of these handcuffs and get to those tools, he might be able to break it…

Shawn finally looked down at his hands. The entire time he'd been sitting up, his arms had been aching like crazy, though he'd tried to tune out the pain. But now, he finally looked – and had to close his eyes for a second to control his gag reflex.

Shawn normally had an iron stomach, but something about the knowledge that this was _his_ blood, _his_ mangled flesh, made him suddenly sympathetic to how Gus felt every time they saw a mutilated body.

His hands themselves were fine, that wasn't the problem. But his wrists… Shawn had no idea exactly how long he'd been hanging, but he had jerked around a lot while he was being beaten; though that wasn't exactly his _fault_. But the combination of hanging from the handcuffs and yanking himself around had caused the cuffs to dig deep into Shawn's wrists.

He'd known they were bleeding, but even so… the sheer amount of blood, not to mention the way almost _half_ of the width of the cuffs was embedded in Shawn's skin, made Shawn very unwilling to even contemplate doing anything with them.

_You have to, Shawn. You have to get out of there before they get back. Stop being such a pansy and __**think!**_A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his father was yelling at him, and Shawn reluctantly closed his eyes, trying to think.

How the hell could he get these cuffs off?

He mentally catalogued the items in the room, mentally turning on the lights so he had a better view. That dark shadow leaning against the wall… that was an axe. And that little object on the ground not that far away from him was…

Shawn hardly dared to open his eyes. _There's no way I'm that lucky._ But he opened them on the slight chance he was – and there it was, not five feet away.

A key.

Shawn actually felt tears of relief rolling down his cheeks. Yet again, his magnificent luck had struck. He was going to get out of this. All he needed to do was pick up that key, and unlock his hands.

--

**7:00PM, Police Station**

It had been nearly eight hours, and the sun was sinking below the ocean, when Gus arrived. Henry had called both him and Madeleine around 2:00, and both had immediately headed back to town. Gus hadn't been too far away, though traffic had delayed him this long, but Madeleine Spencer had been in Italy at the time, so she had no hope of arriving until at least the next day.

Gus screeched into a space, struggling out of his car and running as fast as possible into the station. Once inside, he hesitated for a moment, as if unsure where to go – but when he noticed that both Lassiter and Juliet's desks were empty, he spun and strode into the Chief's office, slamming the door closed behind him.

"What happened?"

Gus swallowed hard as he took in the sight before him: Chief Vick sitting behind her desk, gaze downcast and face dark; Lassiter sitting in front of her, going over paperwork with a determined look in his eyes; Juliet anxiously pacing back and forth holding a cell-phone in her hands, as though waiting for a call; and Henry sitting on the couch, head in his hands.

Oh god. This was bad.

Karen glanced up at Gus, her face serious. "Mr. Guster. Shawn has been… well, he's been kidnapped."

For a moment, Gus was stunned speechless, even though he'd already been told that much over the phone. "How can you be sure? Maybe he just, just went on vacation – or he could be playing a prank. Did you get a ransom note? He might have – " Gus knew it was hopeless even before Karen spoke. Shawn would never pretend to have something so _serious_ happen to him – not to the police.

"No, Mr. Guster. We…" Karen seemed ashamed. "We saw it happen."

"_What?_" Gus stared, mouth open. "What do you _mean_, you saw it happen?"

Karen sighed, looking down at her desk again. It seemed as though she wasn't going to speak for a moment, but then she said, "He was taken hostage during a bank robbery. The robbers came out with a gun to his head, and before we could get an opening to shoot, they were gone."

Here Lassiter took over. "They left in a van with the plates painted over. It's a common type around here, and there wasn't anything distinguishing about it. I've been looking over traffic reports for any vans of the same type – but it's a slim chance it'll be in here."

Gus blinked. "But – what else are we doing? There has to be _something_, right?"

Lassiter shrugged. "There isn't much else. We've already interviewed all the witnesses, but none of them could give us any identifying information about the robbers. We've got cars out everywhere, checking all the vans in the city, and O'Hara's waiting for a call, but… other than that…"

Gus stared at Lassiter, shocked. No matter how much he and Shawn made fun of the older detective, neither one of them really disliked him, and Gus knew for a fact that Shawn trusted Lassiter – with his life if not with his secrets. And when Gus had been called, it had never really occurred to him that Lassiter might not be able to help Shawn.

Sure, he himself had witnessed several cases that Lassiter had been unable to solve, but this was different. This was _Shawn._ How could they not be able to do anything?

A phone rang, and for the first time since he'd begun talking to Karen and Lassiter, Gus remembered Juliet and Henry. Both had been unaffected by Gus' presence: Juliet continuing to pace and Henry still staring down at the floor, head in his hands.

But now they both did something new, Henry's head shooting up as he stared at Juliet, an unguarded look of pure hope on his face, and Juliet instantly freezing in her tracks, flipping the phone open and bringing it up to her ear so fast Gus could barely see her hand move.

"Hello?"

There was a short pause; then Juliet's tense face crumpled with relief and tears instantly came to her eyes. "Shawn."


	3. Chapter 3

Slight spoilers for _Scary Sherry: Bianca's Toast_ and _The Old And The Restless_.

-.-.-

**5:45PM, Basement**

Sophie had been teasing Shawn.

It had been no mistake that she'd left they key behind. She'd done it just to torture him, Shawn _knew_ she had. If it had _really_ been a lucky break for him, it would never have fallen to the ground just _three inches_ out of reach!

He'd tried every way possible. He'd stretched out his legs, he'd tried to reach with his arms, he'd stood and tried to walk over to it… No matter _what_ Shawn did, that stupid damn key remained just_ three inches away._

Shawn had nearly given up four times already – but each time, he'd either remembered the excruciating pain he'd experienced while Sophie had watched with a smile, or that stupid voice in his head that really _did_ sound like his dad began yelling at him until he tried again, just to get it to shut up.

But this time, that was it. There was nothing more he could do. He might as well just give up – and nothing the Dad-voice said could make him try again!

_Of __**course**__ not. Should've known you'd give up. Congratulations Shawn, you've officially given up for the last time, because you sure as hell aren't going to have another chance like this before they kill you._

"That's not what it's like!" Shawn protested to the empty air. "There's no way to reach it. I'll just hurt myself."

_And there it is. Once again, you're looking right at the solution, but you just can't commit yourself enough to find it. Think Shawn, imagine that it isn't you down here. How would a man escape from here? Close your eyes and __**think!**_

Shawn was closing his eyes before he even realized what he was doing, picturing the basement in his head. No, he'd been right. There was nothing anyone with his reach could do. The pulley was locked, so he couldn't pull any more chain loose and get closer that way; nothing else was in reach and he had no way to extend his reach; and the chains simply wouldn't let him get close enough. He'd already tried, but even when he'd gotten closest – sitting down and stretching his legs out as far as possible – he'd reached a point where the chains were taut. If he reached any farther, he'd be cutting the handcuffs even deeper into his own flesh.

_You're looking right at the solution…_

Oh, god.

Shawn opened his eyes, blinking incredulously. "You want me to slice open my wrists? Yeah, great plan, Dad!"

It took several moments of silence before Shawn realized that he was alone; he'd been talking to himself the whole time.

"Great, now I'm going crazy. Well, here goes…" Shawn took several deep breaths, stood, and walked to the end of his leash. Then he closed his eyes, braced himself, and _pulled._

The pain was excruciating, and Shawn couldn't contain a moan of pain as he felt the metal digging deep into his wrists – but his foot was stretching out farther, farther… There! Against his toe, the edge of the key. Shawn braced himself against the pain, lifted his foot, stretched it just a little farther – _ohgodohmyhandsohgodithurts _– and pulled the key back with him as he retreated back into comfortable territory.

Shawn panted hard, trying not to make any noise from the pain, though tears were once more streaming from his eyes. Finally, he recovered enough to pick up the key.

It was hard to unlock the handcuffs, but after five minutes Shawn managed to do so, spitting the key out of his mouth and onto the ground. Of course, now he had to actually pull the handcuffs _off_.

He dared to glance down at his arms, still bleeding.

The metal edges of the cuffs were embedded deeply into his skin on the top of his wrists; almost the entire widths of them were underneath his skin.

Shawn took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pulled free. _Like pulling off a band-aid; quick and painless._

Or not. The cuffs actually stuck from a moment, almost glued in place by Shawn's own blood, so it took him several seconds longer than he'd anticipated. Shawn was biting his lip so as not to make any noise and attract Sophie's attention from upstairs, and by the time he was done, he was bleeding from there too.

Shawn thanked god that he made it a habit to wear two shirts, as he ripped his top shirt with shaking hands, and clumsily tied pieces around each wrist, relying heavily on his teeth.

_Hey,_ he thought as the blood from both his lip and from tying the knots ran down his throat when he swallowed to hold in a gag, _I finally drank my own blood. Gus will be so happy._

Then he was bent over again, vomiting once more.

.

Five minutes of gagging and puking later, Shawn wiped his mouth and stood cautiously, slowly walking over to the slanted door. He checked the padlock. Yep, it was locked.

Shawn spun and headed for the shelves of tools, pausing next to the axe he'd seen earlier. Sure, why not?

Picking it up, he tried not to let it remind him of the last time he'd held an axe – taking it from Jules, wary of the crazy look in her eyes – but failed and sighed. He hoped that the others were all okay, even if he was selfishly glad that they all had to worry about him now, after that morning. They probably all felt guilty…

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Shawn headed back to the slanted door, and lifted the axe, trying _not_ to notice how his upper arm muscles were screaming and dying as he did so.

"Here goes…" Shawn muttered, swinging as hard as he could into the lock, then instantly freezing at the loud noise. After several tense minutes he relaxed, realizing that no one had heard. Reaching forward, Shawn examined the lock… Yes, it was broken.

"Yes!" he cheered in a whisper, then cautiously opened it and climbed out, shading his eyes to look around and find out where he was.

Oh.

Shawn looked around at the empty landscape, then turned back to examine the farmhouse behind him. Complete with a barn over to the right. And no cars. So maybe he _hadn't_ been in Sophie's basement. He was pretty sure she'd have mentioned living on a farm outside of the city.

Shawn looked around one more time, happy to notice that the van wasn't here, which meant that at least Sophie and her brothers were gone – for now, anyway.

Then he sighed, and began to walk along the road.

--

**6:30PM, Highway**

Almost fifty minutes later, Shawn was still walking – well, limping. In the basement his limp from his ankle hadn't been a big deal, but now…

He wasn't sure how far he'd hobbled, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to make any Olympic records. Not to mention, it was beginning to get dark, and not a single car had passed him yet.

Shawn sighed, leaning on his ordinary-stick-turned-walking-stick as he continued to hobble along the highway. Maybe someone would drive by. Or maybe he'd run into one of those emergency phones. They had those every few miles, right?

Right?

.

Only ten minutes later, it finally happened. Shawn heard something, and spun to look; it was headed in the same direction as him, so it couldn't be Sophie returning.

He waved his arms in the air, beginning to hobble out into the road. "Hey! Hey, stop! Stop!"

The car screeched to a halt right in front of him, and a man leapt out of the drivers seat, fury in every line of his face.

"What the hell were you thinking? I could have killed – oh my god."

The reason he stopped was because he had seen Shawn properly for the first time – taking in his bruised face, ripped shirt, and most of all, his arms, covered in bloody streaks and with blood-soaked pieces of cloth tied around each wrist.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" The man instantly rushed forward, reaching an arm around Shawn to help him hobble to the car. "Come on, I'll take you to a hospital."

He helped Shawn into the passenger seat – and then had to buckle him in because Shawn's arms couldn't reach up that high. Shawn leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes, as the man walked around to the driver's seat and started up the car.

After a few minutes of silent driving, he glanced at Shawn, and finally introduced himself. "I'm, uh, George. What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?"

Shawn opened his eyes, and slowly turned his head. "Do you have a cell-phone?"

George fumbled with his belt for a moment before passing a little black phone to Shawn. "Here. What's your name?"

Shawn was already dialing. "Shawn Spencer."

He was dimly aware of the guy gasping, saying something about the psychic that was kidnapped, but all of his attention was focused on the phone pressed to his ear. One ring, two rings –

"Hello?"

The familiar voice of Juliet O'Hara was like a cool, healing breeze. Shawn instantly felt better. "Jules, it's me."

There was a tiny pause, and then she spoke, her voice filled with relief and worry. "Shawn."

--

**7:01PM, Police Station**

The moment, Juliet spoke Shawn's name, the office erupted with noise. Henry, Karen, and Lassiter all leapt to their feet and began firing off questions, and Gus walked over to Juliet, trying to take the phone from her.

She was still trying to talk to Shawn. "Wait, I can't hear you – let go! – No Shawn, not you… I – can you stop? – Just a second Shawn. Shut _up!_"

Juliet's voice was so loud and commanding that everyone instantly froze, and she gave the entire group a quick glare before speaking back into the phone. "Okay Shawn, we're good. Where are you?"

A short pause, then she spoke again. "Are you sure this guy's safe?"

Juliet relaxed, hearing Shawn's familiar chuckle. "Yeah. He's taking me to the hospital. But just in case he murders me, I saw his license plate. 1967GH."

Juliet scrabbled around on the Chief's desk and wrote that down. "Wait – the hospital? Are you okay? What happened?"

Shawn's voice over the line became less amused, taking on a serious tone she had only heard a handful of times in the two years she'd known him. "They took me to a barn out here, and had some fun with me. Then they left, but they dropped the key to my handcuffs, and I managed to get out. But Jules – I'm not hurt too badly, I swear. Just a few little ouchies. But I know who they are. It's a girl and her two brothers. Sophie Brooks, Eric Brooks, and Jake Brooks, okay? They live somewhere in Santa Barbara. She's going to med school here."

Juliet shook her head. "You had a vision?"

Shawn's voice was sad. "No. I used to date her, about two and a half years ago."

Juliet felt a sudden stab deep in her chest, but she just coughed and nodded. "Right." Suddenly not wanting to talk to Shawn anymore, she turned and handed it to Henry. "Here, you talk to him. I have to go."

Lassiter raised an eyebrow at her, and Juliet said, "He gave me names. Come on!"

Without any further conversation, the two left.

--

**Same Time, Car On Highway**

George didn't even pretend he wasn't trying to eavesdrop. After all, he had an injured psychic in his car! He had a right to be excited!

"Dad?" The man's voice instantly lost the soothing, happy edge it'd had during his conversation with 'Jules', whoever that was. "Okay, don't start yelling at me! You were there, I couldn't have gotten away, you know that!"

There was a long pause, then the psychic spoke again. "Wait. You – you seriously aren't blaming me for this?" Another pause. "Yes, I know I was kidnapped! I just – I don't know, I figured you'd be angry at me for not escaping sooner, or having my phone with me, or something."

George rolled his eyes. Wow, this guy had some serious issues with his dad, it sounded like.

"Okay, Dad, fine. I'm on my way back, I caught a ride – what? …Yes, I hitchhiked! What, would you rather I hobbled my way all the way back home through the night letting the cars – and cell-phones, might I add – pass me by? …No, he's not going to hurt me! And besides, I already gave Jules his license plate, so you can track him down just in case. Happy?"

George nodded to himself. _Serious_ issues.

"No. No, I'm fine. I just said hobbling because – I'm fine! No, really, I'm okay Dad – look, I'll see you at the hospital, okay? Just – tell everyone hi for me."

Shawn quickly flipped the phone shut before his Dad could answer, and rolled his eyes.

"Christ… Thanks dude."

George shrugged. "No big deal. Why didn't you tell them you were hurt?"

Shawn licked his lower lip, and George winced when he saw it was bitten through. "Well, they just would've been even more worried. They'll find out when I see them, and if I told them I was hurt now, they'd think it was something life threatening. It's not. It just – "

The car hit a large bump in the road, and Shawn's hand shot to his side as he whimpered, biting down on his lip and closing his eyes.

George looked at him with concern, mixed with smugness.

"Yeah, you're just _fine_."

--

**7:20PM, Sophie's House**

It didn't take long for Lassiter and Juliet to find the Brooks' house, and in less than half an hour, they had pulled up and were going in, handcuffs ready.

Juliet knocked on the door three times, then stepped back with a polite smile.

When Jake Brooks opened the door, he was met with a gun pointed at his head, and cuffs snapping over his wrists.

.

"Jake? Who was at the door?" Sophie walked down the hallway curiously, frowning when she didn't receive a reply. "Jake?"

The door was open, and Jake was nowhere to be found. Sophie began to get worried, and hurried over to it.

The next thing she knew, a blonde woman was standing there, gun pointed at Sophie's face. "Hands up!"

Sophie's eyes widened, and she slowly complied, trying to think of a way out of this. "W-who are you?"

The blonde was none-too-gentle as she snapped handcuffs on Sophie's wrists and let her to the car.

"I'm a friend of Shawn's," she hissed, bumping Sophie's head on the car door as she shoved her into the backseat. "Oops, did that hurt?"

Sophie groaned as she was shoved in next to her brother and the door was slammed shut. There was no way to open it from the inside. "Dammit," she growled. "This is all Shawn's fault!"

.

Back in the house, Lassiter and Juliet proceeded with caution, looking around for the last brother. They found him watching cartoons in the living room. He glanced up at their approach, and nodded when they told him to hold up his hands.

He went peacefully, and as they left the house, Lassiter could swear he heard him say, "We deserve it."

--

**9:30PM, Hospital**

"Just a few ouchies?! Shawn, your wrists are cut practically to the bone!"

Shawn squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth at the sound of Juliet's loud voice. "But Jules, I didn't want you to worry!"

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she stepped back to allow everyone else to speak to Shawn for a little while.

Gus walked up to Shawn without a word, and handed him a pineapple-shaped stress ball. "Use _this_ next time, okay?" He knew his friend's moods well, and knew what the day must have been like for him. Shawn grinned at him, and no more words were needed. Gus sat down in a nearby chair with a smile.

Henry, too, gave Shawn a pineapple – though this time it was a real one, that he put on the bedside table. "Shawn – this wasn't your fault." He smiled at his son. "You did everything you could've, and… I'm proud of you."

He patted Shawn on the hand, then turned and left, pulling a stunned Gus along with him. Shawn stared after him, amazed and confused.

"What, it only took getting kidnapped? I should've done this _years _ago," he muttered to himself, then blinked as he noticed he was alone with Juliet, who was still glaring at him.

"Oh come on Jules, you're not really that mad, are you?"

Juliet continued glaring at him as she approached. "Yes, Shawn, I really _am_ that mad. If you _ever_," she leaned down close to his as she spoke, "_Ever,_ get yourself kidnapped again, I promise you I will never forgive you."

Shawn frowned. "Hey, that wasn't my – "

He was cut off as Juliet leaned forward and kissed him directly on the lips. Shawn instantly complied, kissing her back, until she finally pulled away.

"Jules?"

She blinked, then looked down at Shawn, a soft smile spreading across her face. "God, I was so worried about you, Shawn."

Shawn was speechless with surprise; he'd finally gotten the kiss he'd been wanting. "But – Jules – "

She smiled at him again, and he stopped himself, simply smiling back. "This wasn't a mistake, right? Because I'm pretty sure I could have just dreamed that if it was; it doesn't need to have ever happened."

Juliet shook her head at Shawn, still smiling. "No, it did happen. It wasn't a mistake, Shawn."

Shawn's smile grew ear to ear. "I think you just turned my day around, and let me tell you, that is a _major_ accomplishment."

--

**Same Time, Hallway**

Gus frowned at Henry. "What are you doing?"

The man just shrugged. "That girl's got some things to say to my son." With an enigmatic smile, he turned and strode away, leaving Gus confused and alone in the hallway outside Shawn's room.

He glanced around, then peeked through the little window in the door, his eyes widening when he saw Juliet bending over Shawn's bed, definitely _not_ talking.

"Oh my god!"

Shawn smiled as he heard Gus' voice filter into the room, and waved at his friend before he ducked out of sight. Juliet laughed, and despite the fact that he was aching all over, Shawn couldn't get rid of his smile.

He didn't think he would ever be willing to do this day over again. But he might agree to concede that it was, despite its utter horribleness… worth it.

He turned his head and met Juliet's eyes again.

Yeah, it was definitely worth it.


End file.
